


Security Through Obscurity

by Jenavira



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Gen, Horror, careful planning, poor archival practices
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-07
Updated: 2017-01-07
Packaged: 2018-09-15 09:49:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9229343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jenavira/pseuds/Jenavira
Summary: Gertrude Robinson is very good at her work. Exactly what her work is...is a different question.





	

Gertrude Robinson worked very hard on the organization of her archives. Specifically, she worked very hard to be sure that no one other than her could find anything at all. She worked alone, which suited her beautifully; most days she arrived at the Institute, worked throughout her day, and went home without seeing or hearing from another living soul. Or anyone else, for that matter, for there were things living under the Institute that could not properly be termed living.

On the days when she was interrupted in her work, more often than not it was by Rosie bringing her in some member of the public, wanting to make a statement. Rosie didn't bother to hide her distaste for these people, and it's true they were often distasteful to be around, the mentally ill not being well known for their standards of personal hygiene. If they were not filthy, they were often distressing in their distress, nervous and shaky, their darting eyes lighting on every dark corner, certain that something would be coming out after them. (Gertrude had piled boxes and boxes of files on top of the trapdoor in her office to offer them some solace; although most of her guests never saw it, she believed that it helped them anyway.) 

Why, just last week she'd had a young man in who was so distressed, so clearly sleep-deprived and concerned, that he had tried valiantly to give his statement directly to her rather than writing it down, as procedure strictly required. Gertrude had treated him exactly the same way she treated everyone who came into her archives to make a statement: she'd given him the form, offered him some refreshments (which no one ever took, though she always offered them anyway), sat him down in the solid, brightly-lit room reserved for such rituals, and retreated into her office, leaving the door open far enough that she could see him and he could see her, should anything untoward happen. Privacy and reasonable safety was as much kindness as she could offer, little though it may have been. He'd spent the entire hour it took him to write his statement sneaking glances at her, as if to be certain his eyes did not deceive him. He'd tried to speak to her again when he finished, but Gertrude was good at being firm, and most people didn't care to contradict someone who looked like their old granny, and so he went away again.

When he'd left, Gertrude had read his statement carefully, passing her fingers lightly over the marks of the pen on the page. She labeled it carefully with the date and filed it in a box with no label which she kept in her office, among a dozen other boxes with no labels, carefully filed in between #10701 and #21112. It would be safe there.

"Gertrude?" The voice was so unexpected she almost jumped, but half a century of service in one of London's most unusual institutions had given her nerves like steel bars, and she unbent from her filing with no more expression of surprise than if she were resuming a conversation previously begun.

"How can I help you, Elias?" She kept all the warmth and caring in her voice that she'd shown to the young man so recently left; it was the only way she could be sure that she didn't show her true feelings.

The Head of the Institute blinked at her owlishly from behind thick glasses, an expression that made him look dangerously dim-witted. Dangerously because he was anything but; one did not reach his exalted position by accident. "I wanted to let you know that I've gotten another request for documents from CID - I haven't seen the file in detail, it's probably the same half-dozen cases they're always on about, but I thought you would appreciate a little extra time to...pull things together." The look he cast around her pleasingly untidy office was not quite censorious. 

There was not the slightest chance that he had come down here only to tell her that. "Thank you; I appreciate it." Pleasant and polite, she must always stay pleasant and polite. One did not last as long as she had by accident, either.

"Oh," he added, as though he'd forgotten, "and one of our newest donors has expressed an interest in a tour of the facilities. I was sure you wouldn't mind; I've scheduled him in for a week Thursday, if that's all right with you."

"Perfectly fine," Gertrude said, pleasant and polite. "It's always nice to meet our benefactors; I shall have to remember to stop and buy a new packet of biscuits. I'm afraid the ones I have on hand are growing quite stale." Pleasant, polite, and a little dotty; being an old lady was such a _useful_ disguise.

"Yes, quite," Elias answered her, his mind clearly elsewhere already. "Well, carry on the good work." 

When she was sure he had left, Gertrude began to move about the office without pause for thought. The stack of files second from the right atop the boxes lining the west wall. A padded envelope that weighed almost nothing but crinkled at her touch. A box of cassette tapes in the bottom filing drawer. The things that mattered most amounted to very little in the end, but they did matter oh so much. 

Gertrude Robinson had over fifty years of service at the Magnus Institute, and unless she was very clever and very, very careful, she had a little more than a week left.

**Author's Note:**

> Written, for historical interest, shortly after the posting of Episode 44, Tightrope.


End file.
